


Of Seas and Starlight

by TheresaWritesStuff



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awkward Romance, F/M, Humor, Romance, Selkie Sherlock, Sherlock in Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-06-20 22:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15543105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheresaWritesStuff/pseuds/TheresaWritesStuff
Summary: When the selkie prince Sherlock came ashore, he had but one goal: rescue his sister, who had been kidnapped and presumed dead seven years before.  Yet he soon found himself with another, rather unexpected goal in mind: to win the heart of the lovely Molly Hooper. As he and his new friends work together to find and return Eurus to the sea, the more he finds himself longing to stay...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea from a writing prompt on tumblr a while back. I'm excited to try out this AU and I hope you are too!
> 
> I make no claims as to being an expert on Selkie folklore. This is sort of my take on things based on some brief googling...
> 
> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Enjoy!

John yawned, raking a hand sleepily through his hair as they readied the S.S. Baker to leave the docks, the sun still well below the horizon. He had become accustomed to early mornings during his army days–although he had never grown to enjoy them–but he was surprised to find that even the military had nothing on the demanding schedule of a ‘guy’s only fishing trip.’ Then again, that could just have been the lack of coffee talking.

Maybe he was just going soft...

The adjustment back into civilian life had not exactly been an easy one for him. So when long time family friend, Greg Lestrade, had invited him along on a fisherman’s getaway up the coast for the week, it seemed like as good a solution as any. But now that he was here, he wondered who among them was searching for a getaway more…

He fought back another yawn as he leaned against the rigging.

“How are those sails coming, John?” Greg chuckled, patting his friend’s shoulder heartily.

“Hm? Good. Good. They’re good. Ready when you are,” John replied, shaking himself from his daze.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Greg grinned and turned to the man at the other end of the boat. “How are those lines looking, Anderson?”

“Almost...got them,” came Greg’s work friend’s unconvincing reply as he sat cross legged among a mass of tangled fishing line.

“There’s a trick to that type of line. I’ll show you and then we can be off,” Greg offered, striding over to him.

John opted to stay where he was, feeling that the boat’s rigging may be the only thing keeping him upright.

He blinked sleepily as he looked out at the rocky shoreline. From where he stood, he could see a seal making its way across the beach. But the more he looked at it, the more there seemed to be something...off about the animal’s movements.

He squinted, peering out at the beach. “Hey guys...there’s a seal out there. I think it might be hurt. I’m going to go check it out.”

“John, I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” Greg cautioned, but John had already left the boat to investigate.

Abandoning the tangled lines, the two men jogged after their companion.

“Don’t get too close to it,” Anderson whispered, trying to catch his breath as John crept slowly towards the rocks that the seal had disappeared behind.

“It’s fine,” John sighed, rolling his eyes. He inched his way toward the rocks for a better view.

“Hey there. You doing alright, buddy?” he asked in a soothing voice.

“Yes. I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” a deep baritone replied.

The three men screamed, stumbling back in shock as not a seal but a tall, curly haired, and extremely _naked_ man stood up from behind the rocks.

“Oy!” Greg exclaimed, averting his eyes. He turned instead to glare at John. “I thought you said he was an injured seal.”

“I thought he _was_ a seal,” John hissed back. “I’ve gotta get my eyes checked…”

“No, I saw it too,” Anderson insisted. “He was. You were!” He turned to address the strange man before them, who seemed far too underwhelmed about being found naked on the beach in the wee hours of the morning.

Anderson’s eyes widened as the man shook out a mass of dark fur, transforming it into a long, black wool coat. “I-I know what you are!” he exclaimed in awe. “You’re a selkie.”

“A what?” John asked, confused by this entire episode.

“Phil, don’t be ridiculous. Selkie-folk are just old stories people made up hundreds of years ago to justify why their wives left them,” Greg chastised. “This bloke probably just had a few too many at the pub last night. Isn’t that right?”

The man arched his eyebrow at him as he donned his coat, covering himself.

“I tried one of your fermented drinks many years ago. Didn’t care for it,” he replied calmly. “As for the stories, as I remember them it was far more often _your_ kind that was at fault, not mine. Hardly fair to characterize us all as rakish seducers and woebegotten fickle souls when in actuality it was a neglectful lack in communication and affection that plagued your spouses.”

“Excuse me?” Greg stepped forward defensively. “My wife and I are just fine, thanks.”

“I wasn’t speaking of you, personally,” the man clarified, unphased by Greg’s hostile tone. He tilted his head slightly as he studied Greg for a moment, his expression shifting from mild amusement into something softer, almost akin to concern. “But I can assure you that the two of you will never fix what is broken between you by running away from your problems.”

Greg muttered something that John could only assume was very rude under his breath, crossing his arms sulkily, no longer wishing to be a part of this conversation. However he seemed to be considering the man’s words.

John winced sympathetically for his friend and turned to the strange man who seemed perplexed by this turn in the conversation.

“Kind of harsh, don’t you think?” John told him, keeping his voice hushed.

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” he insisted, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah, maybe. Still a bit not good though…” John replied. “Listen, I don’t know anything about these stories you’re talking about. But Lestrade isn’t like that. He’s a good guy. He and his wife are just going through a rough patch, y’know?”

The man considered this and slowly approached Greg.

“Listen…” he turned back questioningly.

“Greg” John whispered.

“Greg,” the man continued, a little more confidently, but still apologetic. “I meant you no offense by what I said. I can see that you are a good man with a good heart. A heart that has become heavy.” He placed a large hand gently on Greg’s shoulder as he leveled his pale eyes at him. “You’ve been wed...five years now, correct?”

“Yeah...how did you…” Greg trailed off as the man waved a hand, dismissing his question.

“Do you still love her?” he asked, though it seemed a rhetorical question.

“Yes,” Greg answered anyway.

“And are you still willing to work to preserve that love? To fight for it?” he prodded.

“Yes, of course. If she still is…” Greg looked down, finding himself surprisingly vulnerable with this stranger.

“Then tell her.”

“It's not that simple…”

“Isn't it?”

“You think it’ll work?” Greg looked up, hopeful, but his voice held a shred of doubt.

“It can only do you good,” the man replied.

“Yeah...yeah, you’re right. Thanks. I’ll call her right now.” Greg nodded decidedly as the man released his shoulder. He fumbled for his cell phone, but before he stepped away he offered the man his hand. “Greg Lestrade,” he introduced.

The man took it, grasping it with a friendly shake. “Sherlock.”

“Thanks, Sherlock,” Greg replied. He smiled to himself as he dialed, walking away from them up the beach for a little privacy. “Hey Val? It’s Greg...Yeah, sorry, I know it’s early. I just...I realized I really needed to talk with you…”

Anderson stood with his jaw slack, unable to put two words together after seeing what had just happened.

John just stared, awestruck at his friend as he walked away. “Wow…” he said, impressed. “How’d you do that?”

Sherlock shrugged, pulling his collar up against the cold morning breeze off the water, hugging his coat a little tighter around himself. “Humans in general are incredibly easy to read. It’s all there if you take the time to learn what to look for.”

“Is that right?” John chuckled.

“Yes,” Sherlock replied matter of factly. He looked John over intently. “You, for instance, came along on this trip at the behest of a concerned family member. Most likely a sibling, attempting to be helpful. An older sister? That seems the most likely. Coming back to civilian life has been a difficult adjustment for you.”

“Yeah,” John replied, impressed. “How’d you know?”

Sherlock smiled. “Easy. Your posture is a dead giveaway for one. Upright and alert. It's a soldier's stance. You’re still fairly young. Brought home by a battle injury, I presume, but not a serious one. No... Certainly not the leg, as most would assume.”

As John’s face shifted to begin forming a question, Sherlock smirked and pointed to John’s feet.

“The tread of your shoes shows you’ve been favoring your right leg slightly, but it hasn’t bothered you this entire time that you’ve been standing here. Psychosomatic limp then. Additionally, your tan stops at the wrist, so you must have been stationed somewhere dry. The middle east, no doubt. That seems to be predominantly where your wars have been, assuming you haven’t settled a peace in the last few years. No, of course you haven’t…Was it Afghanistan or Iraq?”

“Afghanistan.” John smiled after a moment. “That’s incredible.”

“Just a matter of knowing what you’re looking at,” Sherlock replied, visibly pleased with himself.

“S-so you really are a selkie,” Anderson managed, finding his voice finally. “I have so many questions. Are you a seal all the time when you’re in the water? What’s your average lifespan? How come you speak english so well? Is it true that a woman can summon you if she cries seven tears into the sea?”

Sherlock’s arched an eyebrow in disbelief at that last question, causing John to have to repress a snort.

“Quit pestering him,” Greg rebuked, coming back to join them. “This guy might have just saved my marriage. Hey, um, want me to lend you some clothes? You seem a little chilled.”

A brisk gust of wind blew across the beach, sending a shiver through Sherlock as if on cue.

“That would be nice. I don’t want to be any trouble though,” he accepted humbly. His stomach growled audibly.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take you into town for a bite to eat once you get changed,” John offered.

“Thank you.” Sherlock looked at the two men gratefully, following them back up the beach towards the boat.

“...So are we not going fishing?” Anderson asked, following on their heels.

 

With Sherlock properly dressed in a spare pair of jeans and a white t-shirt that Greg had on board, he and John sat down for breakfast at the local café, as promised, leaving the two work friends to salvage what was left of the peak fishing hours.

“So...what is a selkie exactly?” John asked finally, taking a satisfied swig of coffee after they had placed their order. “I mean I realize you are one but what does that mean? I’m not exactly up on my folklore.”

Sherlock smiled slightly at this question, warming his hands on his own coffee cup, but hesitant to actually drink it.

“We are not so different from humans. In fact, I would not be surprised if we even shared the same origins, once upon a time, before magic was bred out of your kind,” he explained. “We live under the ocean, much like you do above it on land. When the seas reach their calmest point in a seven year cycle, we are able to use our coats as transport through the sea to come on land for a short time, if we so choose.”

“Uh-huh…” John responded, processing this. “So you’re a merman?”

“No. Although it is a name misattributed to my kind in some areas as I understand it. However, the half-finned creatures popular in your stories are only a bi-product of sailors imaginations.”

“Got it.” John nodded. “So you’re Atlantean.”

Sherlock shook his head. “Again, shared origins but far different culturally and geographically.”

“Wait, Atlantis is real?” John whispered, eyes widening.

He cleared his throat as their waiter approached with their food.

Once they were no longer in danger of being overheard, John spoke up again.

“Okay just to be clear...you’re not actually a seal? At any point?”

Sherlock sighed in exasperation as John took another sip of his coffee.  
  
“Again, no...You humans really are simple creatures. What is it like in that funny little head of yours?” he muttered. He ruffled a hand through his dark curls, trying to find the words to better explain himself.  
  
“Pardon me,” a cheery voice interrupted from behind him. Sherlock rolled his eyes, turning around to see a mass of black fabric. His coat…  
  
He blinked, staring first at it, than up slightly at the petite brunette who held it out to him with a sweet smile.  
  
“I think this fell off your chair,” she explained.  
  
He looked from the coat, then back up to meet her warm brown eyes, captivated.

She was beautiful. No, not just beautiful. _Radiant_. Beyond her petite frame and soft, unique features there was a kindness, a loving, giving nature that radiated from her. And a sadness about her as well. By the stars and sea, how he suddenly wished he could take that sadness from her, ease her burden. And yet she smiled despite it all. How fascinating.

Had he been discussing something before? He could hardly remember. All that he could possibly fathom thinking of in that moment was her. Her eyes. Her lips. Her smile… She wanted him to do something...His coat. Yes that was it. She wanted him to take his coat. Which was still in her delicate hands. He swallowed as he realized that must he was staring, which as his new friend put it, was ‘a bit not good.’  
  
“I see,” Sherlock replied finally. His fingers lightly brushed hers as he accepted it, sending a shiver through him which he did his best to conceal. “Th-thank you.”  
  
She blushed a lovely rose under the intensity of his gaze, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear shyly. “Sure, no problem.”  
  
She nodded to him, and then John as an afterthought, her ponytail bobbing to and fro as she left to wait on another table.  
  
Sherlock remembered to breathe as he watched her for a moment before turning to stare dazed into his coffee cup.  
  
“You alright there, mate?” John asked, smirking slightly.  
  
“She gave me my coat,” he murmured, more to himself than John.  
  
“Yeah, so? It’s just a coat, Sherlock. She was being nice. Waitresses generally get better tips when they’re nice to the customers.”  
  
“No, John. She had my _coat,_ ” Sherlock repeated emphatically, sea green eyes staring intently at his friend, waiting for him to catch on to the severity of what had just transpired.

“Yeah...and?” John raised an eyebrow as he took another hearty swig from the the cup in front of him.  
  
Sherlock took a sip of his own coffee, lost in thought. He wrinkled his nose in distaste as the flavor registered and set it back on its saucer.

“When a human takes possession of a selkie’s coat, the selkie is then bound to them. You humans have a word for it… married.”

“I’m sorry. You're what now?” John sputtered in disbelief, finally catching on.  
  
Sherlock shrugged. “I don't make the rules. A selkie’s coat is an intrinsic part of them. It just sort of happens. When she held mine...I’ve never felt that way before. Did you see her smile? It was like sunshine,” Sherlock sighed, looking back over his shoulder, trying to catch sight of her in the crowded restaurant. “I don’t even know her name…”  
  
“I think her name tag said it was Molly” John replied, inspecting a chip with an amused  smile before popping it into his mouth.  
  
“Molly,” Sherlock whispered, smiling softly to himself. “That’s rather pretty.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly tells Mary about the man at table two.  
> Sherlock tells John just why it was that he came ashore...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter update because the next few weeks for me are going to be crazy busy. In a good way. Just not as much time to write as I might like... More to come I promise! This story is just getting started.  
> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.  
> Please feel free to leave thoughts, general reactions, salutations, etc. in the comments!  
> Enjoy!

Molly made her way into the kitchen, immediately slumping against the prep table with a groan.

“What's the matter?” her friend Mary asked with a chuckle, not even bothering to look up as she expertly chopped the vegetables in front of her.

“The most beautiful man that I have ever seen is currently sitting at table two,” Molly sighed.

“Is that so?” Mary set down her knife, her interest piqued. She moved to sneak a glance out the window set in the kitchen door. “Oh yeah, I see him. I don’t know if _beautiful_ is the word I would use, but definitely a cutie. And that jumper he’s wearing! Looks like it’s made of boyfriend material if you know what I mean.”

Mary tossed her a cheeky wink over her shoulder.

“Jumper? No, I meant the one sitting across from him,” Molly said, coming to join her.

Mary shrugged. “Suit yourself. More jumper man for me,” she replied with an easy grin before standing on her tiptoes for a better view. She let out a frustrated breath, craning her neck. “His back is to us. All I can see is that wild bit of dark hair. What’s he look like?”

Molly leaned against the wall, hugging her arms about her middle. “A bit on the pale side. High cheekbones. And eyes like the sea after a storm,” she replied dreamily.

“Easy there, Buttercup,” Mary chuckled. “You’ve still got the rest of your shift yet before you and Cheekbones can ride off into the sunset.”

A rueful smile twitched across Molly’s face. “In my dreams, maybe. I made an idiot out of myself the minute he turned around. I could hardly get two words out.”

“It happens to the best of us,” Mary reassured her, patting her shoulder before returning to her station. “And I’m sure it wasn't that bad. He probably didn’t think anything of it. You should get back out there. Flash him a smile. Check in. See if he needs a refill on his drink. Maybe slip him your number...”

Mary waggle her eyebrows at her playfully.

Molly shook her head. “He’s not in my section. And even if he was I don't know if I could go back out there just yet. I only stopped at his table to hand him his coat and I could hardly make it through that simple interaction...I was actually hoping I might hide out in here while I take my break…”

Mary gave her a long suffering look before cracking a smile and sliding a few vegetables off the cutting board over to her for a snack. “As you wish…but I still say you should give storming the castle another go.”

Molly chuckled, rolling her eyes.

“So did you hear they are doing a movie night in the park?” she asked, changing the subject.

*****

Sherlock, meanwhile, sat deep in thought, wondering what to do...

There was so little time. He couldn’t afford to be distracted.

He shouldn’t have been so careless with his coat. It shouldn’t have happened…

Yet his heart still fluttered relentlessly in his chest, the thought of her smile refusing to leave him. Oh, the way it had made her warm brown eyes shine...How had he ever lived without that warmth in his life?

“I hadn’t anticipated this,” he admitted quietly. “I had a plan. This wasn’t part of the plan…”

John looked up from his plate, considering how to respond as he chewed.

“Well...she gave it back, right? If your coat is back in your possession, that would mean whatever that was between you two is over, wouldn’t it?” he offered, trying to ease his distressed companion.

“But I don’t want it to be over,” Sherlock protested, eyes widening in a panic.

“Okay. Okay.” John held up a hand in attempt to calm him down. “Maybe you could try a more human approach. Ask her out.”

Sherlock stared blankly back at him.

“On a date,” John clarified.

“...Court her?” Sherlock replied, catching on.

“Yes, exactly.”

Sherlock considered this. But after a moment he shook his head dejectedly.

“No.”

“No?” John repeated, arching an eyebrow. “Let me get this straight...you don't want to ask her out, but you also don't want whatever it was between you to be over?”

“Yes! No…I don’t know…” Sherlock slumped in his chair, feeling defeated.

“I’m afraid you can’t have it both ways. That’s not how it works up here,” John told him, amusement seeping into his serious expression.

“it's complicated,” Sherlock protested weakly.

“Why? Because you’re a selkie and she’s human?”

“It’s not just that…” Sherlock sighed.

He steepled his fingers under his chin in thought, the memory of her touch still ghosting across his skin.

Molly had managed to fascinate him in the brief moment that they had shared. Surprised him even. Something few had seldom been able to do. He could only imagine what it would be like to actually spend time with her. What it would be like to get to know her. To learn about her likes, her interests, her life. To see her smile again… How it would feel to be the cause of her smile...

Yes, he would very much like to court Molly. But…

“I came here on a mission,” he explained solemnly.

John sat forward, pushing his plate aside to give him his undivided attention.

Sherlock folded his hands on the table in front of him as he went on. “Seven years ago, during the last calm, my sister, Eurus, came ashore to dance before Aine.”

John tilted his head in question, prompting Sherlock to elaborate.

“It’s an old tradition of sorts in our culture. Centuries ago, selkies would come ashore to dance on land in honor of the tide goddess Aine on midsummer’s night. Nowadays, it is more of an act of rebellion among young selkies. An excuse to be reckless and dance on the beach with the moon on your skin and the wind in your hair.”

“So they dance around without any...coats?” John cleared his throat as Sherlock shot him a reprimanding look. “Sorry. Not the point. Go on.”

Sherlock stared thoughtfully into his coffee cup. “Eurus had been feeling constrained by our parents and the expectations they had set upon her. In an act of defiance, she snuck out with a few other foolhardy youths to come ashore for a moment of perceived freedom...She did not return with the others.”

“Oh, Sherlock. I’m so sorry,” John murmured sympathetically.

Sherlock continued,“We tried desperately to search for her, but by that time the tides had shifted, making it impossible to reach the shore from our home in Baileevneas. All we could do was wait and hope that she would find her way back. That the currents would be in her favor. As time passed, we could only assume she was dead. But then last year I received a message. A little scrap of waxed paper in a weighted, water filled bottle.”

“What did it say?” John wondered.

“‘Come after me. Please. E,’”Sherlock recited, having committed it to memory.

John sat back, taking this in. “Wow…”

“From that moment, I began devising a plan to come ashore and rescue her. I only have seven days to find her before the tides change.”

“That isn't very long,” John pointed out.

Sherlock sighed. “No. It isn't.”

John thought a moment. “What if I help you?”

Sherlock looked up in surprise. “You’d do that? Even with all of my planning, I cannot say for certain what we are up against. It could be dangerous.”

“Yeah, well...” John shrugged. “Beats fishing.”

Sherlock smiled slightly as John casually downed the last of his coffee and began scanning the restaurant for their waiter for a refill.

“Thank you,” he murmured gratefully. Feeling a little more at ease, he took a bite of the toast that he had been picking at since it was set in front of him.

John smiled in kind, setting down his cup, moving on to the other matter at hand.

“So what about Molly?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Sherlock wondered, brushing the crumbs from his mouth.

“You said it yourself, you don't want whatever it is that happened between you two to be over. You should give it a go. Ask her out to coffee or something. See what happens.”

“The tide still changes in a week. I’m not exactly able to extend my stay here. As you’ve pointed out, my time is extremely limited.”

“You’ve got me helping you now. We’ll find your sister in time, I promise.” John assured him.

Sherlock smiled at John’s confidence, but shook his head, still unsure.

“Look,” John persisted. “I’m no expert of selkie-human relationships, or _relationships_ for that matter...But the way you looked at her, and the way she looked at you...Limited time or not, there’s something _there_. Something that I’d wager you both would regret letting slip away. Granted, I’m certain she wasn't aware that picking your coat up off the floor was a proposal in your book, but I think she fancies you.”

“Really?” Sherlock breathed. He glanced around in hopes of seeing Molly, his heart beating frantically in his chest all over again.

John chuckled. “Yeah, Sherlock. Really.”

Sherlock smiled shyly, schooling himself to keep his eyes on the table. John certainly made a compelling argument…

A frown creased his brow as doubt began to seep in again. “I’m not always good at first impressions. I’m not even sure how I would go about approaching her…”

“Refill on your coffee?”

Both men looked up at the chipper blonde holding a coffee pot.

“Yes, thank you...Mary,” John replied, reading her name tag.

“You’re welcome--”

“John,” he supplied quickly, eagerly offering her his hand.

Now it was Sherlock’s turn to chuckle at his friend’s expense. He winced as he felt John’s foot connect with his shin under the table in response.

“A pleasure, John.” Mary flashed him a flirtatious smile, accepting the handshake before filling his cup. She turned to Sherlock. “Anything for you, sir?”

“Hm? No. None for me,” Sherlock replied a bit distractedly, trying to control his expression. As he looked up to acknowledge her, he thought he saw something akin to recognition flit across Mary’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

John took a sip from his newly refilled cup. “This is just what I needed,” he told her gratefully.

Mary grinned in amusement. “Glad I could help. You boys just let me know if I can get you anything else,” she replied with a wink. “By the way, John...great jumper.”

“Thanks.” John smiled, rather pleased with himself as he watched her go. Then his eyes lit up as an idea struck him.

“You want to know how to approach a girl for a date? Watch and learn,” John instructed.  
He was out of his chair before Sherlock could respond.

Sherlock sighed and sat back in his chair, observing with reluctant half interest. He smirked, shaking his head as John rambled on, and decided to try to get a better read on Mary. She was certainly a woman who knew what she wanted, having set John up to approach her for a ‘date’ before she’d even left the table, getting exactly what she wanted while still giving John a sense of a say in the matter. Clever and easy going, emotionally supportive. Yet there was something else. Something she was holding back. But before Sherlock could decide what exactly that was, their waiter stepped into his view, distracting him from his thoughts as he handed him the check.

******

“Say Mary,”John called as he loped the short distance over to her. “I was wondering...My friend and I just got into town. If a guy were to, oh I don’t know, want to take a pretty gal out for an evening...is there anywhere around here you’d recommend?”

Mary smiled, charmed by his coy display. “Let me think...There is a screening of Finding Nemo in the park this evening that a friend and I were just talking about going to. One of those picnic blankets and popcorn under the stars sort of things. You wouldn’t happen to be interested in something like that would you?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at him.

“Oh, I’d be very interested in something like that,” John assured her.

Her smile widened into a grin. “Great! You two should join us. That is unless you’re not available…”

“No we are available. Very much available.” John replied quickly.

Mary giggled. “Pick us up here around seven? We can walk over to the park together.”

“Yes. Sure. That-that sounds great,” he fumbled, suddenly finding himself a bit flustered.

“Perfect. Oh Molly will be so thrilled!”

 _Molly_. Well that was a stroke of luck! He’d almost forgotten...Something told him Sherlock wouldn’t go in for a double date with anyone else, no matter what argument he might put forth.

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “See you at seven, then?”

“It’s a date. See you then, John.” Mary flashed a smile at him as she sauntered off, leaving him momentarily dumbstruck.

*****

John returned to the table, grinning to himself, to find Sherlock getting up to pay their check at the register.

“And _that_ is why they called me ‘three continents Watson,’” he declared smugly.

Sherlock arched a skeptical eyebrow at him with a smirk. “But she asked you...”

“N-no she didn’t. I asked her,” John argued.

“If you say so…” Sherlock shrugged, pulling a few bills from the wallet in his hand, handing them to the cashier. “That’s not what I saw.”

“I was there, Sherlock. I think I know who asked out who.” John blinked, recognizing the wallet in Sherlock’s hands as his own. “Give me that.”

“It was on the table.” Sherlock rolled his eyes as John snatched the wallet from his hand.

“That's not an invitation for you to take it,” John reprimanded.

Sherlock sighed, “I’ll pay you back if it bothers you so much.”

“Just wait for me next time,” John muttered. “And how exactly are you planning o--”

“Hey John,” Mary called over, distracting John from his question.

They looked up to see Mary approaching--with Molly in tow.

“Do you boys have any sort of snacks you would like for this evening? Concessions at these sort of things are usually pretty generic so I always stow something in my purse,” Mary explained.

John glanced over to see Sherlock staring wide eyed down at Molly. He did his best to control his amusement, assuring them, “Whatever you ladies like will be fine.”

“This is my friend Molly by the way,” Mary introduced. “Molly this is John and...I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

Molly looked up at Sherlock, meeting his gaze with a shy smile. Heaven help him, she was lovely. Even without holding his coat, she had him absolutely captivated. He noted that his head felt a little clearer than before, but his heart fluttered in his chest all the same. She was still just as radiant. Her eyes still as warm and enthralling as before. Looking in those eyes, he felt an overwhelming peace and comfort. It felt almost like he was finally...

“Home,” he murmured. He cleared his throat, coming back to the present and realizing his error. Thinking quickly, he corrected, “Er- Holmes...Sherlock Holmes.”

“Molly Hooper,” she replied, extending her hand to him. “It’s nice to meet you, Sherlock. Officially, I mean…”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he informed her, accepting her hand. Without thinking, he bent slightly, raising her knuckles to press them briefly to his lips.

Molly’s eyes widened in surprise, locking with his, her pupils dilated as a flush crept into her cheeks.

He felt his own cheeks warming, he realized his actions may have been an overstep and released her hand.

Straightening, he cleared his throat. “Right...John, I think it’s time that we go. Errands to run and all that.”

He nodded to Molly briefly before turning on his heels and marching out the door.

John blinked, still slightly in shock at what he’d seen. “Um...Okay.” He turned to Mary and Molly, not quite sure what to do. “We’ll, um, see you girls later then?”

Mary grinned and nodded.

“Right. Good…” John replied, a little relieved. Looking back over his shoulder, he added apologetically “I should probably catch up to him...”

Giving them a little wave, he took his leave and trotted out the door after Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun note: In my searches I couldn't find an official name for the selkie home beneath the sea that is alluded to in some tales. When trying to come up with my own name for the selkie homeland, I looked up some gaelic words since selkies have their roots at least partially in Irish folklore. A brief google search gave me "Baile" (BAL-yeh) - Home, village, place etc. and "Aoibhneas" (EEV-nass) - bliss, delight. That in mind I frankensteined those into "Baileevneas" to roughly mean "place of bliss." Which could be entirely wrong. I don't speak Gaelic unfortunately...  
> Also from a brief googling, Aine is an Irish Moon goddess (although further searches suggest she is also associated with the sun...) but I thought it fitting for Selkies to have adopted her as their goddess of the tides.  
> I should probably put a "writer does not claim to be an expert on any of the source material she's using" disclaimer on this fic at some point...  
> Anywho! Just a little insight into my though process on some of this :) hope you enjoyed this chapter, short as it was. There is much more planned! Hope to get it written and posted soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments!


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